


always where you can reach me

by Suicix



Series: (because of you) the world feels different to me [2]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - You Are (Music Video), Ambiguous Relationships, Developing Relationship, Dreamsharing, First Meetings, Introspection, M/M, Pre-OT7, Pre-Poly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 05:18:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12549944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suicix/pseuds/Suicix
Summary: From just listening to Bambam talk for a couple of minutes, it’s clear that he understands. Bambam isn’t from here, either: he’s trying to find his way, just like Mark is. Bambam has a necklace just like the one Mark found (the one that found Mark), except the pattern’s slightly different, like they’re supposed to fit together. Bambam – Bambam’s shown up in Mark’s dreams. They’re connected, somehow.





	always where you can reach me

**Author's Note:**

> even though the mv was of course filmed in hong kong, i think this series is set in korea, just for convenience, although it's inspired by the visuals and narrative of the mv.
> 
> this universe's endgame is very much ot7, but this fic is about markbam before they meet the rest of the group

Mark takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and _dives._

It’s a rush like no other, really, even though he didn’t start from that high up. The cool air on his bare chest, the way his head spins as he flips, and then the sudden splash when he makes it to the water. He’s underwater now, completely submerged in it, but he doesn’t feel like he’s drowning or in danger. Instead, he’s exhilarated, adrenalized.

He breaks the surface, his heart beating so hard that it feels like it’s in his throat. The sky is so blue, and so is the water around him, and if he hadn’t just somersaulted backwards off the rocks, he’d feel so calm just looking at it all. He gives himself a moment to float, to wait until his heart and breathing have slowed down a little, and then swims to the edge of the water.

It takes a moment for him to hoist himself up onto the side where he left his stuff. Mark pulls his towel out of his bag and drapes it over his shoulders, and he’s about to put the bag back down when he notices something underneath it.

Something he doesn’t remember being there earlier.

It’s a chain, with a triangle-shaped pendant attached. On the surface of the triangle is a metal outline with a thicker stripe down near the middle point – some sort of symbol, perhaps. Mark reaches for the chain to get a closer look.

The moment he does, the atmosphere seems to shift. Something seems to click into place. When he takes the triangle in his palm, it somehow feels like a weight’s been lifted, but also like an entirely new one’s been placed upon him.

Whatever it is, it feels like something that can’t possibly be contained in just one slab of metal. Something bigger than Mark, bigger than even the distance he travelled across the world to get here.

 

 

With the necklace, comes dreams.

That’s what Mark thinks is happening, anyway, because he swears he’s never dreamed this vividly before now. Swears he’s never woken up with that night’s images still in his head, just as tangible as they felt when he was asleep.

What he can never remember, though, are the faces of the other people in his dreams. They’re the same each time and he knows it, can _feel_ it, but upon awakening, they’re gone, and all Mark’s left with are flashes of summer yellow and metallic blue.

There are dreams of forests and rooftops and hills, and then a maze of a city at night time, all tall buildings and bright lights, too tall and too bright. He’s lost, doesn’t even know where he’s going. It feels like he can’t do anything – can’t breathe, can’t eat, can’t sleep – until he’s found whatever he’s seeking out. Like he’s being compelled to walk these streets until it’s within his reach, and he’s so close to whatever it is, so close, so close–

And that’s when he wakes up.

 

 

Some days start to feel like that, too. Like Mark’s wandering aimlessly with no end or goal in sight, like he’s walking in circles. Most of him – a good ninety percent of him – wants to head back to where he’s staying and sleep the days away (and then, _then_ he’ll get to have what he’s looking for because it’ll be there for him in his dreams), but he knows he has to immerse himself in the city and its culture and its language. He can’t just spend his spare time finding secluded areas and jumping off of rocks into water, can’t just spend day after day bundled up in bed. There’s _something_ here, after all. He can feel it.

He’s minding his own business as he walks when he suddenly stops in his tracks. His pocket – the one the necklace is in – feels heavier. He pulls it out and keeps the chain in his hand and his hand in his sleeve, the triangle dangling down out of the cuff of his sweater. Whatever metal it’s made of isn’t magnetic, but it feels like it’s pulling Mark along, directing him to where it thinks he needs to go. It’s like what happened when he saw a birdcage hanging in a storefront the other day and he was so inexplicably drawn towards it with no idea why. This time, though, what he’s drawn to is a person. A person who seems to be pulled towards Mark as well, if the fact that they’re looking each other up and down is anything to go by. His hair’s a vaguely familiar silvery blue colour, not quite purple but almost there.

They lock eyes, and as they do, the eyes on Mark widen. For their owner, the colour red must mean the same thing that the silver-blue does to Mark.

 

 

From just listening to Bambam talk for a couple of minutes, it’s clear that he understands. Bambam isn’t from here, either: he’s trying to find his way, just like Mark is. Bambam has a necklace just like the one Mark found (the one that found Mark), except the pattern’s slightly different, like they’re supposed to fit together. Bambam – Bambam’s shown up in Mark’s dreams. They’re connected, somehow.

“It sounds stupid,” Mark starts to say, trying his best not to sound like he’s stumbling over the Korean even though he tells himself it shouldn’t matter when Bambam’s a foreigner, too, “but I think I’ve seen you before. In my dreams.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Bambam tells him. “Not when I’ve seen you before, too.”

Mark doesn’t answer, not yet. He just looks at Bambam, contemplative and considering, and then nods. They’re in this together, whatever that means – whatever _this_ is.

 

 

That day and the night that follows turn into an exploration of the city. Somehow, it doesn’t matter that they don’t quite know where they’re going or what they’re looking for. They’ve got each other, and they might be trying to find others, but for now, this is more than enough. After feeling so unsure for so long, Bambam is more than enough – more than Mark ever expected.

Mark doesn’t even notice it starting to get dark around them, doesn’t notice until he manages to look away from Bambam’s eyes and up at the sky. The night’s starting to glow neon around them, lights coming on just as they always do, just another part of the city’s routine.

That’s how it already feels between them: easy, intrinsic, automatic.

 

 

Bambam looks softer in his sleep. The silver of his hair is more like silky stardust than sleek chrome, and Mark can’t help but reach out to stroke a hand through it, keeping the touch light and gentle. There’s a sigh from Bambam, but he doesn’t open his eyes, doesn’t seem to wake up. Mark leans in and brushes his lips against Bambam’s forehead so softly that it can barely even be called a kiss before letting his own eyes droop shut.

He hopes he’ll fall into the same dream that Bambam’s having.

(He does. He dreams of a hill, one he’s seen before, except this time he _knows_ that Bambam’s there with him. At this point, he supposes it’s a matter of finding out who else is. Mark’s content now, but with them, he thinks he and Bambam will feel complete. That he’ll feel a satisfaction that not even flipping backwards off a cliff into the cool water below – or skydiving, or paragliding, or any of the things he’s done just to chase a thrill – can match.)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading, everyone!! you can always find me on tumblr @ vibetechs, and also now on twitter @gotsevenses


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